Onions

I spent the day preparing for Thanksgiving. I brined a turkey, made 4 pumpkin pies, homemade cranberry sauce, broccoli casserole with cheese whiz (my Grandma Roche used to make it, so we make it every year to honor her), helped chop various produce, and checked my Facebook account 7 times.

I also spent the day hanging out with my younger sisters. I have 5 of them, so it takes a while. My cousins Amanda and Ashlee are here and my Grandmother, who has a Betty Boop tattoo, stopped by. We chatted, played with the family babies, and caught up on each other's lives. Sometimes our family relationships can be filled with crazy contradiction and deep emotional turmoil. It's like how chopping an onion is awesome at first. The smell is pungent but really, really good. You breathe in the strength of the odor and initially feel refreshed, cleansed. Then, your eyes start to burn and you start crying and just need some serious space from the onion.

But, today was one of those days where I'm thankful for my family. My eyes did not burn once. In the midst of the messiness of our cooking efforts, I was reminded that relationships themselves are messy. That life is messy.

But, from that messiness comes a magnificent feast.

I didn't leave my parents' house once. And it was glorious.